Encounters
by Rawritz
Summary: He fascinated her with his music, and kept her with his heart. She fell, and could only hope for a second attempt to meet the boy that lurked her thoughts.


There he was, sitting on the opposite side of the café. His legs were crossed, body leaning back into the cushion of his chair. In his hands was the newest edition of the new world known saga. His long eyelashes rested softly over his eyes, fluttering as he digested the pages of writing. On his table was a delicate mug, steam rising from the contents.

She sighed as emotions glazed over her quick eyes. A bell rung, signalling that more customers had come to feast upon the delicacies that the café had in store for today. The girl reverted her gaze to fulfil her duties.

A group of flamboyant boys made their way to the counter. Standing ahead, flicking his blonde wild hair, was a smirking boy. His dimples grew as he spotted the lovely lady that was to be serving them, teeth beamed. "Hey gorgeous."

She gave her eyes a roll. She didn't have some sort of perfume that would send boys to cloud 9, she didn't have the most curves and the kind of tactics she faced gave perplexing messages. In fact, she had no clue what attracted men at all.

Her tone of voice was much distant as she spoke, "What would you like?"

Hearts dazzled in his eyes as the corners of his lips tugged up. "You." His group grumbled in a quiet form of laughter, nudges were sent via elbows.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Is this the kind of thing that girls adore? "Excuse me?"

The boy bit his lip. He rested his hand on the counter and slowly slid it across the surface. "How about we meet up some time?" He invited, a flirtatious sound rolling off his tongue.

She narrowed her eyes. Dirty tricks, she wouldn't fall for them. "How about no," the pinkette advised.

Flashing his pearls, the blond leaned over the counter. "C'mon. I'd say you and me would be pretty cute."

"No."

The boy chuckled under his breath. "Don't be harsh, babe."

She crossed her arms and declared, "I already have a boyfriend."

The boy's smile continued to waver. "Liar. I've been to this place more than three times this month and I haven't seen anyone holding you like arm candy."

"Fine. Someone else has already filled my heart." She lifted her hand up in silence before another word could run from his face and let her eye twitch as she warned, "You either buy something or I'll call security."

He shot his hands up in defence as his face drew shock. "Woah, woah. . . If I was him, I would have already taken you in my arms and flown you away to Hawaii." A smirk graced his lips as he waited to be only met by her unimpressed features. "Have it your way, then. I'll get the –"

And that's how it was. It wasn't uncommon. But that girl would always spark a kindle of affection in countless male customers.

But sometimes she had wished that she could leap into his arms, fly away to some exotic island and live to her potential. But alas, love has pain and insecurities.

It shouldn't even be a thing to bother her. She was young. She had potential. She had to explore the world with her brilliant masters in the arts. But she needed a fair amount of cash to disappear on a rainy day.

She was vulnerable to the ache of what was and what could have been. It would have been easier to forget if she were to leave.

It all started on a notable day. It wasn't one of her best days, but the flow she received at the end kept it from one of her worst. Much like dark chocolate; it had a bitter edge to it, yet it would spoil with sweetness. Needless to say, she slept in on her regular day of school, lacked accessories to tame her hair, skipped an important meal, was scolded by a professor, and left her notes in the lecture hall.

_The location of her notes was evoked in the middle of a lesson, so at the end of her classes she rocked her vans to the room, gripping her books. She paused at the door. Leaking into her ears was a majestic harmony. It enticed her with the bleak hint of melancholy._

_Unfortunately, the striking music was indistinct. Capturing her completely, the pinkette nudged the door open only slightly. The sound enhanced drastically when she sneakily poked her eyes through the crack. Sourcing the tune, she laid eyes on a boy._

_In his arms was a large wooden hourglass instrument. His right arm was drawing a bow across the strings. Dark hair masked his features, his lean body stiff as a board whilst energy was put into controlling his hands. He was lone in the room, focusing on the contents of a music stand._

_Aware of his presence, the girl backed away from the door. Her lips slowly curled up at the sleek melody, like she was swept off her feet. The enchanting song came to a close._

_"It's rude to stare."_

_She flinched. A loud thump was landed as she stumbled through the door. Her arms were frozen in the air like a dove, trying to gain her balance. She cursed to herself before correcting her stance._

_Her eyes travelled up to his instrument. Such an indifferent thing could make beautiful music. Her lips parted in awe of its aesthetics._

_Finally registering, the girl fumbled out an apology and soon mustered a question. "Is it hard to play the violin?"_

_"Viola," he corrected._

_ "Err–yes. Viola." She shifted uncomfortably. "Is it hard to play the viola?"_

_The dark-haired boy fitted the viola under his arm while repositioning his sheets. He shrugged and then answered, "I guess."_

_She lifted a brow. "What's the difference?"_

_He took a brief moment before replying, "Come here."_

_The pinkette rested one hand on her wrist, rubbing up to her forearm and down consciously before moving closer. _

_The viola was carefully placed string-up on a desk. He turned to another desk with a case and softly unlatched the sides._

_The girl watched as he pulled out another instrument, and noticed his hair stood out navy. _

_He looked at her, then at the gadget in his hand, and back to meet her gaze and frowned._

_She felt a little displeased and tilted her head to the side, "You can trust me, you know."_

_He gestured to the gear he had in his hand. "Airheads shouldn't be let near fragile equipment."_

_Her eyebrows furrowed. The pinkette emotively moved her hands as she replied, "I am not an airhead!"_

_"Sure." His eyes gazed over to the threshold of the room. "You should probably pick up your books now." _

_She let out a small 'huh?' before looking over her shoulder. An exaggerated drop of sweat ran down her temple. Her few books and pencils were scattered on the ground near the doorway._

_"Ahh!" She cried as she collected them up in her arms. The moment she slammed her equipment down, a pencil flew from the table and rolled underneath the desk._

_The girl crouched down and guided her hands across the floor before encountering her pencil. Clutching onto it, she rose up– but smacked her head on the desk._

_She crawled from beneath and stood up, rubbing the top of her hair. "Oww," she mumbled as embarrassment flowed through her body._

_The boy stifled his laughter._

_The pinkette folded her arms and snorted. "I was just out of it. Come on, please?"_

_He raised the instrument more over to the girl and smirked. "Just don't drop it."_

_"Whatever." She huffed before snatching it from his hands. She imitated the way he held it._

_He handed a long bow to her, the horsehair strings pale with powder._

_She placed pressure onto a string on the neck of the instrument and gingerly drew the bow along the playing area. __A screech cried out. She winced. "Wait." Pressing more on the string, she drew her bow harder. It hadn't improved. She grimaced. She repeated her actions, trying to solve the puzzle on how to play this beautiful instrument. It hurt her head. She was only returned with a feline cry._

_The boy scrunched up his face and held his hand out in a stop formation._

_She lifted the bow and slumped her shoulders. The pinkette frowned. "It must be broken or something. It sounds like a dying cat!"_

_Shaking his head, the azure-haired boy took the instrument. "This is a violin." He positioned himself and drew the bow. All signs of emotion dropped from his face. His fingers utilized the strings at visible ease._

_With lips slightly parted, the girl dazed at the violin. It was a more playful tone than the viola. The strings produced more of a higher key._

_The boy silently shifted his stance and lifted a brow at the girl. After a few moments of confused idling, he cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"_

_The bubblegum-haired girl flinched, breaking out of her trance. "U-uh, um." Her eyes spotted a familiar book situated on a far desk. She lifted her index finger. "T-that! I– book!" She walked at an immense speed towards the desk. With stiff arms, the girl grabbed her notebook. Raising it in the air and twisting in a robotic motion, she clicked her tongue. "I–uh–left my book."_

_He slowly nodded his head._

_Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, the pinkette advanced to the door of the room, "I'll be uh… going now, I guess?"_

It was only after several weeks that she uncovered her feelings for this boy. He stood out in the hallways more. Instead of 'that random guy', he was labelled as 'that violin guy'. His existence proved more value to her. It grew to the point where she always knew if he was in the room. Spotting his random acts of kindness, she came to the conclusion that he was a good person. She would feel giddy walking past him. Her breath would quicken in pace and it confused her. They hadn't even had a proper conversation since they met. Heck, she didn't even know his name. She regretted their first encounter. Only if her hair had been fixed, her clumsiness handled or her behaviour under control would she had been at ease. When she had caught onto the signs he had given, she truly regretted it. He was ignoring her these past few weeks. His head was turned when her eyes landed on him. She always saw him leaving the room. It was almost as if she had completely turned him off when they first met. He probably saw her as this awkward, dumb minded, airhead that hurt his ears and can't keep her eyes off him. He must be completely disturbed by her company. She felt sad, and that only made her want to leave her quiet town even more without any regrets.

"Excuse me– miss– your shift is over." A hand was placed on the pinkette's shoulder.

She twirled around, awareness of the present time returning. Meekly nodding at her workmate, she silently thanked God that nobody came while she was stuck in her thoughts. The girl made her way to the staff room. She removed her apron and hung it on the rack before grabbing her bag from the table. On her way out, she glanced around the store, and noticed that he was gone. She let out a sigh and headed for the exit.

"Oh. Wait. Hey!"

She twisted her body. Woah, she was starting to get dizzy. Her breath caught when she met midnight blue. Her eyes froze when she saw him, that violin guy, reaching his hand out and looking at her. "A- Wha- Hi," she breathed out. She couldn't believe it. Him. He was right there.

"Your skirt. It's, uh." He drifted off, hoping she'd catch on.

Immediately she looked down, and saw that her skirt was flipped at a dangerous height at her thigh. Her face flushed. The apron must have rearranged her skirt. She quickly flattened it down. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Her shoes suddenly became very interesting, being the only thing she could hold her gaze upon. What should she do? She must have made the biggest fool of herself. He must think she is some kind of freak. How embarrassing and unladylike was that? Her face was so red. Strawberry face. That must be her new nickname. That will be his opinion of her forever. She'll own seven cats with human designed names. People will know her as the strawberry lady with one-too-many cats.

He began to chuckle.

The pinkette shot her eyes up, shock evident on her face. "What's so funny?"

His finger wiped imaginary tears and he shook his head. "Nevermind."

Her lips pouted. She looked at how his hair swayed as he recovered from laughter. Once his hand was drawn, she spotted his eyes for the first time. It was rare for people with coloured hair to encounter blue eyes, but he must have been lucky. They were like circular pools of ocean. Crystals glistening. There was a little light that shone in his eyes. It was alluring, mixing with the deeper and brighter palet of blues in his iris. They were all pieces of a puzzle– different and unusual at first– but when placed together, it just fits. It felt right. She had seen eyes like these before. But just his eyes– his eyes in particular. They were special. Because the person behind them just couldn't rack out of her brain. Yes, she was probably bias when she said that these were the best eyes that she had ever seen, but she really could not care less.

"You did well at that announcement meeting awhile ago." He reverted his gaze to the tables.

The pinkette mentally slapped herself, having realised that he must have felt uncomfortable with her eye-gazing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just answer him then. She scratched the back of her head and smiled sheepishly. "Hehe. That was a bit embarrassing."

"What do you mean? You looked so into it," he said.

Colour tinted her cheeks. "Well, I stuttered a couple of times."

He scoffed. "Nobody would have noticed that."

Her eyebrows raised, "You sure? By all means, they could have been stunned by my terrible talking skills."

"I'm sure you didn't stun anybody."

"They probably just let me speak up there so I wouldn't feel bad." She held her face in her hands.

"No," he spoke, tone serious. "You projected your voice, and people could actually hear you."

"Th–Thanks." Her face turned pink, realising that he really was complimenting her. Him. Violin guy. Why hadn't she realised it earlier?

"So.. You work here?" He asked.

She nodded her head. "Yeah. I don't really need much talent for it. It's not my ideal job. I just take orders and serve."

He raised an eyebrow, "Then what is your ideal job?"

"I want to be an artist." A smile graced her lips. "To paint brilliant works of art and hang them in magnificent museums."

The boy saw her as she grinned, and noticed how her cheeks rose, breathtakingly. "I never caught your name," he said.

"Ah," she looked up at his eyes once again. "I'm Amu."

"Ikuto," he breathed. "I was wondering– if maybe– one day you would like to grab a coffee or–"

She giggled and almost didn't catch the small tint of pink on his cheeks. "Um. We're at a coffee shop already."

The corners of his lips poked up at the sound of her laughter. "Well then, would you like to do whatever you'd like to do. . with me?"

Her stomach fluttered, almost as if a cage had been unlocked– releasing hundreds of butterflies. There was a short pause before she answered, "I would kind of like to hear your violin again."

A smile broke out of his features, brightening his entire face. He chuckled lightly. "That could be arranged."

The pinkette inwardly smiled. Her face bursting with preserved energy, and shades of red. She gripped tighter on her bag and blurted maybe a little bit too excitedly, "I'd like that."

:..:..:..:..:

**Ahh! Thank you mysterious first reviewer! I don't think I'll have a chance to truly thank you, but just in case you read this, then I will. I actually began this as a draft, then abandoned it, and then found the courage to continue. I apologise for the mistakes, but I'm glad you pointed them out. I understand how it would be a bit abrupt, but it would be better if there was his point of view. I'm really glad you liked it, and I hope other people will.  
I would like to point out that he didn't ignore her at all (girls otherthink). He says, "You did well at that announcement meeting awhile ago." and it is a little hint that he noticed her more too. In fact, it was a bit of a habit for him to appear at the cafe (don't think I mentioned that either). Not sure if anyone actually reads these parts, so I salute those who did. Hehe. xox**


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